


The Colour of Regret

by deltachye



Category: Psycho-Pass
Genre: Angst, Dark, Drugs, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Reader-Insert, Self-Harm, Sexual Violence, Spoilers, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-08-16 19:54:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 18,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8115367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deltachye/pseuds/deltachye
Summary: [reader x nobuchika ginoza] [spoilers]Your remorse clouded every corner of your life. You shouldn't have done this. You should've said that. What if you'd done this? What if you hadn't?You definitely shouldn't have hurt him, but you did.





	1. [i] - "I know"

_pax vobis, paenitentia_.

* * *

 

“Checkmate.” He paused, jaw clenching and unclenching, before scowling deeply. He waved the digital chess game away and you watched the pixels dissolve out of existence. “Although only a child would believe that you hadn’t set me up.”

You smiled sheepishly, leaning back into your chair. You tucked your robe around your legs and shrugged. “I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

He leant forwards so that his forehead nearly touched the glass, his stare that of a starved lion.

“You already have.”

You exhaled deeply. The words didn’t hurt as much as they should’ve—you suspected the stress-relieving drugs they had been pumping into you since you’d been admitted was at fault. You might’ve smiled at him if you were dumb enough to think that he wouldn’t hate you even more. You thought carefully about what to say next, but it wasn’t as if choosy words would help with the situation.

“Gino…za.” You didn’t think you had the right to address him with a nickname anymore. “Why are you here? You haven’t made an effort in months.”

It took a while before he replied. When he did, the words were quick and spiteful—it was obvious that he’d rehearsed them, but his bitterness still shone through.

“We need your help.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“ _My_ help?”

“We're short an enforcer.”

“…and the Ministry asked for _me_.”

You raised your hand and pressed it against the glass. Your psycho-pass and vital stats came up, the colour of your Hue that of an ocean with angry waves roiling underneath the surface. It was balancing precariously between clear-and-cloudy, but that wasn’t the point. You jabbed your finger at your crime coefficient, knowing that he could see it. “This isn’t acceptable.”

“I know,” he replied testily. He looked at it for a while longer before commenting dryly. “It’s gone down, at least.”

“It’s still not in regulation value. Ginoza, if you pointed the Dominator at me right now, I would _fucking_ blow up.” You waved your hand down, the sight of your Hue sickening. You looked at him, who was carefully staring at something behind you as to avoid your gaze. “You know it’s a bad idea to put me back in the field. You’re smart enough. Who’s requesting me?”

“…Kogami.” He finally moved, picking his glasses off of his nose delicately. You knew he wasn’t about to say more until you pressed.

“Then why isn’t Kogami here? I haven’t seen him in weeks. And it isn’t like _you_ were dying to see me.” Your words finally got a response out of him as he froze, his shoulders tensing. You saw him grind his teeth together, tendons in his jaw jumping.

“He asked me to go in his place. Despite my many protests.” He resumed cleaning his glasses. You pressed your lips into a tight line and tried to calm your frustration, lest you be sedated to sleep in front of him. “You’ll be able to talk to Kogami once you’re released.”

“Even if I do return to the force… it’s not as if anything can go back to normal. You know that.”

“You don’t need to tell me.” He was still grinding his teeth.

“You shouldn’t do this to yourself,” you said softly, your acrimony finally fading into weariness. “Being around me will only make your Hue cloudier.”

“And who are you to tell me that?!”

His shout brought the attention of staff, but he waved them away, regaining his composure with a lengthy sigh. You flinched at the sound of his raised voice. “Besides,” he muttered after folding his cloth and pocketing it, “I don’t want advice on keeping my psycho-pass clear from _you_ of all people.”

You nodded slowly. The air was thick with tension, and you wished that you had been knocked out so that you wouldn’t have to sit through this.

“I’m… I’m sorry.”

He seemed taken aback by the words and merely stared at you, expecting for you to continue. You fidgeted with your fingers. His glare burned you.

“I wish I hadn’t hurt you.”

He scoffed quietly, his own gaze turning downwards. He picked with something on the table. You looked up and saw him playing with a coin, flipping it through his long fingers. He stopped and clenched it in his fist, knuckles white as bone.

“It’s not as if you can take it back.”

“No.” You still remembered the look of horror on his face as you wrapped your hands around the suspect’s neck, the desire to kill coursing through your bloodstream like a poison. You could even hear his Dominator whine as it shifted to Lethal Eliminator. Every time you went to sleep, you heard him scream your name in despair as you tried to kill another human being.

“I should’ve seen it coming.” He broke the silence and stood, tucking in his chair. You looked up at the tall man that had once loved you, his green eyes glimmering under the artificial lighting. He seemed lost in thought. Troubled. There wouldn’t be a time where either of you would be at peace.

“Everybody I care about betrays me anyways.”

“Ginoza,” you said, shaking your head after him as he left. You stood and called again, but he was gone. A screen then popped up in front of you, the tinny and cheerful voice of the automated holo chiming.

“Your Hue is becoming cloudier! Please take a moment to calm down. I recommend that you take a deep breath in—”

You punched the glass, your fingers stinging as alarm bells went off in your ears. Tears wet your face as guards scrambled into the room, grasping you roughly by the arms to drag you back to your room.

“I _know_.”


	2. [ii] - "Tired."

“So. How are you?”

“Well, let’s see. Pretty shit. You?”

He laughed, the cigarette hanging out his mouth muffling the sound. He took his hand off the wheel to light it, the self-driving feature activating automatically. He turned to look at you as you shivered. Kogami had tried to lend you his jacket in the rain, but you’d rejected it immediately. Seeing the Inspector’s coat that you would’ve worn only made you more depressed about your demotion. Your updated badge sat in your pocket, heavy. You hadn’t wanted to look at it. Badges didn’t specify between Enforcers or Inspectors, but the knowledge that you were mere scum of society was enough to take a toll on your self-esteem.

“I’m serious, you. How do you feel?”

You sighed. You’d heard the question nearly a thousand times as the psychiatric staff fluttered over you, trying to keep you from being released to the public. Other phrases you had heard during the day included:

_“She’s a damn psycho, and we’re letting her out?!”_

_“Just wait ‘till she kills somebody for real.”_

_“How long until this chick gets shot by a Dom, d’you think? Reckon a month or two?”_

“I’m… tired.”

He blew out a puff of blue smoke, the cloudiness fogging up the interior of the car. The humid drizzle outside allowed you to draw spirals on the cool glass. 

“I can see that.”

You couldn’t help but sigh again. You hadn’t been able to sleep, what with Ginoza’s words still ringing in your ears. You turned to look at Kogami, pursing your lips.

“Why’d you push so hard to reassign me, Ko?”

He grinned wolfishly. “Guess I missed seeing your pretty face around.”

You rolled your eyes and pressed further. “You know my psycho-pass. You seriously put your ass on the line.”

“Sibyl okay’d it. I wouldn’t have tried so hard if Sibyl hadn’t.” He blew a stream of smoke out into your face where you waved it away. He chuckled. “It’s fine, anyways. Your crime coefficient’s low enough now that you won’t die on the spot if somebody points it at you by accident.”

“‘ _By accident_ ’”, you mocked, turning away. You picked at the upholstery, listening to the raindrops fall onto the roof of the car. It hadn’t surprised you that your crime coefficient managed to drop 100 points as you readied yourself for reassignment. You didn’t even feel like a latent criminal anymore, anyways. The only murder you felt like you ever wanted to commit was your own suicide.

When you spoke, you didn’t dare look at him. “You didn’t just ‘miss me’, Ko. You pulled me out for Ginoza, didn’t you?’

“Ah.” He leant forwards and took control of the car again, steering around the slower vehicles by darting into the other lane. The honking ticked him off until he just put on the sirens, leaning back as vehicles made way.

“You also requested me to transfer to Division 1 when I could’ve easily returned to back to mine.” You were watching raindrops race, collecting other drops in their path until they were fat enough to zip to the bottom. So far, your bets were losing. 

“Yup.” Another exhalation of smoke.

“Why?” you couldn’t take it and clenched your fist, nails pressing hard into your skin. “It’s not as if Nobuchika and I can get back together.” You looked away and stared hard at the dashboard, furious with yourself for saying his first name when you didn’t deserve to any longer.

“I think… I think he needs you.” It took him a while to say it, and when he had, you had no idea what to say back. You swiped at your eyes and glanced over at him.

“What?”

“He hasn’t been the same since you left.”

You scoffed and shook your head, pressing your sleeves into your burning eyes.

“Neither have I.”

\---

Division 1’s office looked the same as your old Division’s, minus the familiar faces. But you didn’t think a visit to them would be welcome, so you had to forget them. You scanned the desks. A girl with long hair sat, reading an e-novel. Another was empty with bottles of alcohol stacked alongside books and other trinkets—but you knew who sat there anyways. A man you knew only by face seemed to be harassing the girl, his loud and boisterous voice hurting your ears as soon as you walked in. Immediately, you disliked him.

“Sasayama, you do know that I’m not remotely interested in men.” She spoke coolly as you were still examining the room, your eyes falling on Ginoza’s back. You saw his typing stop, his fingers hovering over the keyboard.

“Hey, hey, that doesn’t mean—whoa! Kogami, you didn’t tell me she was such a looker!” He almost fell out of his chair when he noticed you. He was immediately in front of you, so quickly that you were actually quite impressed with his speed. He smirked. “ _Two_ hot girls. Now, if only Ginoza-sensei and Kogami were hot too, eh?”

“…very pleased to meet you,” you lied, slipping around him. You dropped your box of personal effects off onto a desk, choosing the one beside the girl’s so that she would block you from Ginoza. He refused to acknowledge you, and you were glad. Sasayama tailed you, sitting down in your chair before you could. He kicked his feet up onto your new desk and grinned, cocking his head to the side. 

“So, bad girl, eh?”

Unable to reply, you shrugged. The correct answer was “horrible, awful person”, but he hadn’t made than an option to you. It was also relieving that he didn’t seem recognize you, even with the tight staffing of the CID. And, if he did know your past rank, he made no move to point it out.

“You into bad boys?”

“They’re not my type,” you muttered, green eyes behind thin wire frames flashing before you.

“That’s what they all say, but I prove ‘em wrong.” He chortled before Kogami picked him up by the arms, pulling him off of your seat with a mighty grunt. You thanked him politely and sat, placing your hands over the keyboard. It lit up lazily. The girl looked over at you. You recognized her, too—you couldn’t place her name, but Kogami had told you over and over about his new enforcer. While you were still an Inspector, that was. The memory stiffened your shoulders.

“Oh, you need a special code to log in for the first time. I can—” you ignored her and typed in your old log-in data, tapping your holo-device against the scanning pad. She stared at you in surprise as the computer verified and accepted your information. The forlorn expression of your visual ID greeted you as the computer booted up. You turned to look at her and smiled sadly.

“I’m already registered in the system. Thank you.”

You heard Ginoza resume his typing quietly, disregarding your existence; as you expected him to.


	3. [iii] - "Not Anymore."

Dime greeted you excitedly, bounding up to you with his tongue out. His paws pressed against your thighs as he tried to climb you, desperate for attention. You couldn’t resist and smiled, crouching and rubbing him behind the ears.

“Good boy.”

Ginoza walked past you dismissively and set his jacket upon a chair in the kitchen. Ignoring you completely, he took a bottle of water from the fridge and went into the bedroom. You watched him go, before Dime whined, rolling over onto his stomach. You knelt on the floor and gave him a half-hearted belly rub. The dog sensed your souring mood and growled, panting heavily.

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry.”

Ginoza returned with the box of your belongings, setting it on the floor beside you gently. Dime raised himself, still panting as he lay on the ground. Ginoza stared hard at you as you stood, brushing off your skirt. 

“Thanks, Nobu—Ginoza.”

He noticed your mistake and looked away, his frown deepening. You crouched again and peered into the box, seeing all of your clothes ironed and folded neatly. The small trinkets you’d brought with you into his place had all been gathered. You hadn’t even known how much stuff was yours. The place was bare without your houseplants crammed into the corners. Or the small trinkets from the times before immigration bans. Pictures of you and he. A younger you smiled up, his arm wrapped around you tightly. Printed photos were rare in this day and age, so you had only owned one. You turned it over, disgusted. Dime nosed his way back into the box after you’d closed it, curious, but you ignored him. Something was missing.

“Ginoza.”

“What.”

“My…” you felt incredibly awkward and took a deep breath, hating the flush of warmth your cheeks took on. “The ring.”

It had been sent to him after you’d been decommissioned, with the rest of your belongings. He set his drink down and tapped his foot against the floor, his back still turned away from you. You could see the tension in his slim frame.

“It’s fine if you’re going to keep it,” you said hastily, nudging Dime out of the way with your foot as you scrambled to pick up the box. “I’ll be going.”

“Wait.” He finally spoke and sighed immediately after, as if regretting it. He disappeared back into the bedroom before reemerging, his hand closed in a fist. You swallowed as he walked up to you. Your heels were at the door and you felt incredibly small next to the six-footer. Vulnerable. 

“Here,” he muttered, holding his hand out. You felt the familiar cold metal fall into your hands.

“I… it’s not as if I should wear it anymore.” You put the box on the counter and opened your fingers carefully, unable to look away from the platinum ring that you’d once worn on a necklace because you’d been so afraid to lose it. Your hands were shaky.

“True. You got arrested before we got married.”

The words hadn’t meant to be cruel but they stung. You winced. Without the stress-relieving drugs from the Isolation Centre, everything hurt more than it should have. You turned away from him so that he couldn’t see your pathetically watery eyes.

“Enforcers can’t get married, anyways.” You knew that he knew, but you felt like you still had to say it out loud to affirm it. You would never marry him. Enforcers were strictly forbidden. When the date came, nothing would happen—all because of you. 

You suddenly held the ring back out. “You should take it back. It was your mother’s.”

He tucked his hands into pockets and looked at it, shaking his head. “I can’t. Not… anymore.”

You sucked your teeth and retracted your hand reluctantly. You didn’t feel right wearing it, so you shoved it into your pocket, patting it afterwards to make sure it was still there. 

“I see.”

You wanted him to say more. You wanted Dime to bark when you left. Even something falling over would have stopped you. But nothing happened. The door clicked shut behind you and just like that, it was over.

The date had already passed, anyways. You had seen the “congratulations!” cards in the garbage can on your way in.


	4. [iv] - "I Need You."

“You sure you should be drinking, kid?”

You rolled your eyes and clinked your glass to his raised one. “Far too late to be asking that, Gramps.”

He chortled heartily, taking the shot of sake like water. Your tolerance was low and you sipped at it warily, wincing as it burned your throat and chest. But you were incredibly grateful for the fuzziness it brought your mind, and you downed the entire thing despite being drunk already. 

“If things turned out right, you would be calling me Dad.”

“Hm.” You held out your glass and he splashed it a quarter ways full, aware that any more would result in knocking you out. You gulped it down greedily and set down your glass, your head throbbing peacefully.

“So. You talked to him at all?”

You scoffed and picked at grime under your nails, smiling to yourself sardonically.

“Haven’t you seen us at work? He doesn’t want to.”

“Yeah, well, same thing when I first got transferred into his division. Does he slam the door in your face, too?”

You laughed. “Yep.” 

“I bet he does the thing where he tries to close the elevator door on you, too.”

A smile begrudgingly curled your lips. “I let him.”

“Well, he’ll have to get used to it.” The man you would’ve called your father took another swig straight from the bottle, the alcohol disappearing into him at an astonishing rate. You played with a button on your blouse, rolling it between your fingertips. 

“Hey, kid?”

You grunted in response.

“Go see him.”

You sighed wearily, uncrossing your legs and leaning forwards. Your cheeks burned with the alcohol. “I know I should. But I don’t think he’ll want to see _me_.”

“Can I see it, then?”

You drew the necklace off of you, holding it over to him. The ring clinked in his prosthetic hand as he turned it over, sighing gently.

“You remind me of Sae, a little bit. She was always warm-hearted. Strong, too. She didn’t cry when the police took me. She just sat and comforted Nobuchika.”

You chuckled darkly as he handed it back to you. It felt heavy hanging from your neck, as if it could suffocate you.

“You must really be drunk. I’m nothing like that.”

“You’re the wife of my son. And you haven’t even brought me a grandchild!” he was just teasing, but you cringed—when you’d gone to visit him during happier times, he had practically begged you to name your future child after him.

_“Who says it’ll be a boy, old man?”_

_“So you_ are _pregnant! Is it a girl? Tomomi is a cute girl’s name, too, y’know.”_

_“What—no! You geezer; you’re an awful detective!”_

“I’m not his wife,” you spat in reminder, rubbing your temples. “I’m not even his friend. I’m just a painful, ugly reminder of what happens when you go too far.” You let your head fall back into the couch, too tired to keep it upright. The ceiling fans rotated silently. “He has to see you everyday, too. I can’t imagine what it’s like, being surrounded by people who betrayed him.”

“Hey, now. Nothing’s for sure. Go see him. Do it for your dad?”

You were silent before he urged you again. Finally, you agreed with great reluctance, allowing him to push you out of his place. You wouldn’t have done it if you were sober, but he’d already locked his door behind you. 

Even in your hazy state, you weren't that much of an idiot to know that leaving the building would be breaking the law. However, the same alcohol coursing through your veins told you, "fuck it". You pushed out of the building, feeling your holo-device vibrate angrily against your wrist as it alerted your Inspector—at least he'd be up by the time you got there.

It took a while for you to wander to Ginoza’s, despite not being that far—part of you wanted to just go home. You'd already splashed a bad mark over your record just by leaving the radius. But, you’d made a promise to the geezer and you would be damned if you broke it. You’d fucked up enough. It was the least you could do.

\---

You didn’t even bother to be formal, slamming on his door with a fist once. There was hope that he wouldn’t wake up at all; maybe he'd just send a lowly cop out to detain you instead. But he opened it a moment’s later, disgruntled—it was 3 in the morning, and he wasn’t prone to rest in the first place.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” you asked him with a hiccup that you concealed with a hacking cough.

“Shouldn’t you be at home? You've already violated the law.”

Surprisingly, he let you in, stepping aside. You stumbled, knowing the layout of your old home well enough to fumble for the switch. Ginoza squinted at you in the light, his shirt loosely covering a pair of shorts that he had been sleeping in. He crossed his arms as you tried to figure out something coherent to say in your muddled state.

“So, uh… how are you?”

It was incredibly stupid and you knew it, but he snorted gently. His glasses were still on his bedside, probably—you hadn’t seen him without his glasses since you’d been decommissioned. In fact, you hadn’t seen him smile for just as long. But that was probably just a trick of the light. And your drunken stupor. 

“I’m in good health.”

“Mm.” A sober you would have booked it out of the place, but you were too drunk to be embarrassed. You swayed slightly as you looked around. “Hey, what did you do with my—”

His kiss was ferocious and he knocked you into the wall, your head bouncing off of the brick painfully. Teeth on your skin. His hands dug into you, holding you in place. You curled your fingers in his hair, nearly whimpering with how good it felt to be held again. 

He pulled back, his breaths hot in your ear.

“You’re drunk.”

“What? No…” 

He pressed his face into the crook of your neck, sighing deeply. You felt his eyelashes flutter against your skin. 

“Is that why you’re here?”

“It’s why I’m _hic_ … brave enough to be here.”

“…damn it.” He was scolding himself, you knew—you curled your arms around him loosely and pressed your body to his. It was warm and you snuggled your face into his chest, closing your eyes.

“I missed you,” you mumbled, unable to keep yourself from saying it. He shifted, wrapping long arms around your waist and pulling you closer. 

“I hate you.”

You groaned as he bit into your neck. You let him have his way for a while before pushing him back with a hand, looking at him carefully.

“Ginoza. …are you really okay?”

He laughed resentfully, the short burst of air fluffing your hair. “What kind of question is that?” 

You pressed the back of your hand to his cheek, rubbing a tear away. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not.”

“No, it’s not…” you admitted with a chuckle. He watched you. You shook your head and pushed him farther away from you. “You’re right. I should… this isn’t right…”

He grabbed your shoulders and pulled you back into him as you tried to leave, winding you for the second time. He held you there, his grip tightening—you didn’t make a move even as your flesh burned. 

“I need you. Here.” 

His voice cracked and your resolve crumbled. It wasn’t as if you were capable of turning away now. He kept talking, his voice so hoarse that you could barely hear him.

“First my father, my mother… then you. Who else am I going to lose?”

“I’m here now.” You were staring at the wall behind him, though, because the both of you knew that you were only saying things to make him feel better. 

“Barely.”

The lights shut off automatically as they detected no movement. The both of you were still, the rise and fall of your chest coordinating with his. Finally, you gently pushed him towards the bedroom, pulling at the button on your shirt.

Perhaps it wasn’t fine, but you could pretend like it was for one night.


	5. [v] - "I'm Sorry; I Love You"

_“Say, isn’t this photo of you funny, Gino?”_

_“What—how did you get that?!”_

_You smirked and tucked it into your blazer’s pocket, winking. “Looks like you’ll have to date me now, hm? Now that I’m blackmailing you?”_

_“That’s… that’s illegal.”_

_“How about 10 o’clock. Movies?”_

_“I…”_

\---

_“I’m not exactly good… with women.”_

_“Did you think I couldn’t tell?”_

_The sun finally set behind Tokyo’s skyscrapers, casting shadows across his face that did nothing to hide the blush adorning his cheeks._

_“It’s okay,” you laughed, tossing your hair back and pulling his fingers to yours. “I think you’re good enough for me.”_

\---

_“We finally graduated! So why do you look so damn upset, Nobuchika?”_

_“He finished before me,” he muttered, rolling a coin between his fingers. You chortled, flicking his forehead with your index finger. He dropped the coin onto the table, blinking with surprise._

_“Just because Kogami finished first doesn’t mean that you’re worse than him.”_

_“_ You _finished_ second _.” He glared at you, but his eyes were still soft behind the clear glass._

_“Well, that doesn’t mean you’re worse than me, right?”_

_The penny ended up in your clumsy hands as you attempted to copy him, failing miserably. He scoffed gently and turned away to hide a smile._

_“Fine.”_

\---

_You were breathless as he slid the ring onto your finger. It was loose for you, however, and you clenched your hand into a fist as not to let it fall off._

_“We should probably get that to the jewelers,” he mumbled, as if nothing had happened. You smiled through your joyful tears and nodded, wiping them away with closed fists._

_“Yeah. We should.”_

\---

_“I got a call from your psychiatrist.”_

_You whipped your head up to look at him, startled by his sudden entrance. Your enforcers stared at you mischievously, one of them raising her eyebrows up so high that they practically disappeared._

_“Couldn’t you just message me?” you hissed after pushing him outside of the Division’s headquarters. You crossed your arms over yourself protectively, leaning against the wall so that your Division couldn’t see you through the glass doors._

_“Why didn’t you tell me your Hue was getting cloudier? You need to pull yourself off the case. Now.”_

_“It’s not your call, Nobuchika. I need to find Chieko.” You turned to leave, but he grasped your shoulder and forced you to look at him._

_“I’ll tell the Ministry to pull you out.”_

_“Do you think that little of Chieko’s life?” you snapped, shoving his hand off of you. “She’s been missing for 2 days. Nobody else is going to find her but me, and that means I need to pursue the case. So what if my Hue is getting a little darker? I’ll be fine.”_

_“It’s not that.” He grabbed back onto your wrist, pulling you forwards as you tried to enter the office again._

_“Nobu—.”_

_“_ Please _.”_

_You knew about his father, and you knew about his pain. That was probably why it hurt you to push him off of you again, shaking your head._

_“I can’t.”_

\---

_“Why are you here? Where’s—”_

_“I’m taking his place.” He had a Dominator clipped onto his belt already and looked at you expectantly, as if you were the one causing trouble. “Well?”_

_You ground your teeth before taking your own Dominator, aggressively pulling it out of its holster on your side. You glared at him, jogging forwards._

_“I can handle myself, Nobuchika.”_

_“You called a secret mission in with an enforcer who’s known to enjoy killing. I don’t think your word counts right now.” He ducked under the low entrance, following you into your suspect’s apartment. “I saw your psycho-pass.” He cleared left as you took the right hand side. His voice dropped to a murmur. “You’ve been denying treatment.”_

_“I don’t have time to dawdle with a shrink. Nakamura will get away. Again.”_

_He turned away to check the living room as you peered into the bedroom. Nothing. The apartment split into a fork, hallways spreading off on either side. You motioned him to take left with your hand. Your back was against the wall as you tried to squint through the darkness, sliding forwards, your heart thundering._

_A door. It was nearly closed, a mere centimeter of space between the wall and the sliding door. You might’ve missed it if you hadn’t looked carefully. You slid it open carefully and your blood ran cold as you looked in._

_He was raping her, her unconscious body dangling off the bedframe as if she was a doll. Other girls lay on the floor; their eyes were open but they might as well have been dead. He turned around and smirked at you, his semen dripping off of his victim’s thighs. A surge of fury coursed through your body as you saw Chieko there, your beloved partner, naked with legs spread like a whore’s._

_You wanted to hurt him. You didn’t even think to point your gun at him—you ran and clawed at him, relishing the feeling of his flesh peeling under your nails. He was strong and wrestled with you, but you pushed your thumb into his eye. He shrieked as blood—hot and sticky blood ran down your hand, coating you like syrup. It felt like a warm little mochi ball that you wormed your fingers into. In his pained flurry you pinned him onto the floor and wrapped your hands around his skinny neck, nails digging into his pale skin. You wanted him to suffer. You wanted him to die in pain. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you,_ **fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, FUCK __**

Ginoza hit you across the back of the head with his Dominator, the sharp pain like fire across your scalp. You fell to the side, stunned, your vision dotted with black. You gasped for breath, your thoughts completely scrambled as you struggled to recollect yourself. He knelt down in front of you, his green eyes wide with horror.

“Why didn’t you just paralyze me?” you rasped, fighting the urge to close your eyes. Your hands were on your wound in an attempt to soothe the pain. His tears fell onto your skin and hit you like rain, but they scalded you.

“It wasn’t… it wasn’t on Non-Lethal Paralyzer.”

“Ah.” You couldn’t fight it anymore and closed your eyes, a shuddering sigh escaping your body. “I see.”

He was dialing in back-up as you reached out to touch his hand. He jerked it away from you, disgusted, a low growl sounding in his mouth as he backed up away from you.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, knowing it would never be enough.

\---

When you woke, it felt like you had to peel your eyes open. Everything felt wrong and your eyes felt like they were pulsing out of your head. You reached onto the beside table to try and find your alarm clock before realizing that it was sitting in your new place. This wasn’t your home. Dime was at your feet, you realized as more of your senses came to. His wet tongue darted out to lick your toes. You let yourself lie for a minute, the dreams fresh in your mind, painfully so.

“There’s water and medicine for you.”

He heard you as you roused, slowly pushing yourself up. You searched the floor without looking, retrieving a shirt that wasn’t yours but his. You pulled it over yourself anyways. The smell was familiar and you didn’t think you could bear to return it.

“Thank you.”

You took the medicine hastily, swinging your legs out of his bed. Your holo-device told you that it was still only 4 and some in the morning. You made sure he wasn’t looking before checking your psycho-pass—your Hue had only gotten slightly cloudier, and your crime coefficient was stable. For now. A sigh of relief.

“You should be sleeping more,” you told Ginoza as you got dressed, your back turned to him. 

“Hm.”

For a while it felt like things were normal—you were chiding him to be healthier and he waved you off, the way couples were. The bed still held warmth and you had to resist crawling back in. You felt his side of the bed dip as he sat. When you glanced behind you, your eyes lingered on his skin—smooth like the wax of an unburned candle save for the scratch you’d left on his tricep. You felt a tickling heat rise up inside of you as you remembered last night’s events. You reached out to brush your fingers over it but pulled away, remembering what you were to him. The air went cold and you looked away quickly. You would be foolish to believe that things were all right, even for a second. 

He glanced over at you as he knotted his tie. You used to do it for him. Seeing that you had noticed him, he said shortly, “don’t forget anything here.”

Because you wouldn’t be coming back. 

“I won’t.”

\---

You wished you could’ve taken the transit home. But you’d already violated the rules once, so hopping onto the train might as well have been a death sentence. You were lucky that Ginoza had wiped it from the record entirely. Still, you wished that you were able to travel by yourself again.

You’d always liked surrounding yourself with other people. Normal people. It made you feel secure and oddly satisfied to see innocent lives you had been protecting. Now you had to protect them from yourself.

You leant your head against Ginoza’s window, careful to leave a layer of hair so that your touch wouldn’t leave any marks on the pristine glass. It was cold in the early hours, and the sun hadn’t even risen enough to stain the sky pink. You liked sunrises more. There was something triumphant in being able to see the sun come up above the horizon. As if you’d battled through the previous day and was able to see the next one. Sunsets were nice and all, but you hated the prospect of having to survive the night. Sunrises made you feel as if you’d actually succeeded at something. Even if that measly ‘something’ was just keeping yourself alive.

Ginoza said nothing to you. He drove smoothly. He had never let you drive because you took after Kogami, preferring to speed around vehicles precariously and take right angle turns with screeching rubber and hoots of excitement. The arrangement had been fine—there was something relaxing in trusting your life into his. You twisted a piece of hair between your fingers, only feeling anxious now.

The office had no windows, so you weren’t able to watch the sunrise. As you sat and typed you wished again to be on a train—an empty one, however, so that you could sit and watch as buildings flew past. A train headed to nowhere. You would like that.

Sasayama barged in, late, but his loud outburst made you snap out of your thoughts. You looked up and the screen read, over and over, “I love you I love you I love you.” You’d typed it by accident instead of a report.

Quickly, and with burning shame, you erased it.


	6. [vi] - "It Hurts."

“So, the tables have turned.”

You couldn’t help but laugh scathingly as Kogami crossed his arms. The padding of the room behind him reminded you very much of when he had first visited you in the isolation facility. 

“I’m sorry,” you said as gently as you could with your eyes turned downwards, “about Sasayama.”

He sighed. “Me too.”

You held up a box of cigarettes, shaking them like you would for a dog. His eyes brightened when he saw his favourite brand. 

“I’m surprised that they’re letting you re-enter the force so soon. I’m going to have to deal with you next month!” It was an attempt to lighten the mood because you knew first-hand how draining it was to sit in a room and stare at a wall for days on end. You smiled, wondering if he’d know that it was faked.

“Hey now, don’t tempt me with those.” He then shook his head, his dark hair even messier than usual. He stretched and yawned. “I heard Gino pulled some strings.”

You placed the box on the counter, nodding slowly. You looked at your friend in the eye and saw the same exhaustion that you carried every day. It made you pity him. At least his psycho-pass was better than yours. You slumped forwards and sighed, closing your eyes and clasping your hands together as if in prayer.

“We’ve caused him some real grief, Ko.”

“Yeah.” He paused for a moment. “But hey, I’m headed to Third Division. It’s not like he has to face me every morning, right?” His tone was forced but you pretended not to notice.

“I guess.” You twiddled with a coin. An American penny. A gift. “If he has to see the latent criminals of his father, fiancée, and best friend all at once… God, I’d go insane.”

“More insane than you already are?”

It wouldn’t have been remotely funny to others, but you laughed anyways. Sick. That’s what you were. That’s why you were held with a leash at all times.

“Yeah. I guess.”

He pressed the screen where the cigarettes were, his expression gloomy, the pads of his fingers turning yellow against the glass. “Seems like Sibyl likes to play games with us, huh.”

You sucked in a breath sharply, instinct making you afraid. “You shouldn’t talk about Sibyl. Not now. Your psycho-pass is constantly being evaluated here, Ko!”

He looked at you. “Then let’s hope the Ministry doesn’t transfer me to First Division.”

You stood, tucking away the coin and cigarettes in separate pockets, as if having them in the same one would cause bad karma. 

“I pray that doesn’t happen. For his sake.”

\---

You climbed back into Ginoza’s car.

“Thanks for taking me here,” you said quietly, buckling your seat belt. You hesitated before continuing. “Are you sure you don’t want to see him?”

“I’m sure.”

He drove off before suddenly addressing you directly for the first time since Kogami’s decommissioning. His voice was so low that it was as if he was hoping you wouldn’t hear at all.

“You still wear it.”

“What?” you were taken aback from the sudden question. He glanced over at you before focusing back onto the road.

“The ring. You still wear it.”

The metal was cold against your skin. You wore it at all times but never had the confidence to pull it out from under your shirt. He must’ve seen it a while ago, or all the other times. He’d never made a comment on it until now.

“Yes,” you said carefully, measuring your tone. 

“Why?”

“I…” you looked away and fumbled for an answer. “I guess it’s for old time’s sake. A good luck charm.”

He scoffed darkly. “Fat load of good it did.”

The rest of the drive was silent.

\---

“What is it?”

You didn’t have enough courage to video-call him, so his annoyed tone carried with no face. You gulped a breath in, blurting the words out quickly so that you didn’t have enough time to back out.

“Your psychiatrist called me.”

“What? I told him not to contact you _explicitly_.” You heard him sigh, and it was as if he was breathing down your neck. “What did he tell you?”

“He showed me your psycho-pass. Ginoza, your Hue—”

“It’s illegal to distribute another’s psycho-pass without their consent. You know that. Unless you’ve forgotten everything about being a good police officer?”

You barely registered the insult. “Ginoza, you should be getting therapy. This isn’t a good time for you. Especially with Ko.”

“It’s not as if I cared about him that much. He was just a colleague.”

“He was your best friend,” you corrected, not even pausing to realize that Ginoza might’ve been putting up a nonchalant front to protect himself. “And it hurts.”

“‘It hurts’?” he repeated after a short pause, and you winced, knowing that you’d said the wrong thing. “Do you know what hurts? You wouldn’t. Because your father didn’t leave you and your mother, ruining your life. You didn’t know Kogami for as long as I have. And you _certainly_ don’t know what it feels like to have your fiancée try to kill somebody with their bare hands right in front of you.”

He hung up and you closed your eyes, wishing that you hadn’t called him after all. You pulled up the email with his Hue attached, staring. The deep blue was strikingly similar to yours.


	7. [vii] - "Help"

Ginoza had never made an attempt to come to your place. The times that you did meet him, he called for you himself. No rendezvous have been made at your tiny closet you called an apartment. So it was a surprise to see him breaking into your home.

“Help yourself!” you said sarcastically as he walked in, not bothering to take his shoes off. He glanced at you before throwing open one of the drawers in the kitchenette. 

“Inspectors have keys to enforcer’s apartments.”

You knew that, obviously—you still _had_ the keycard from your time as an Inspector, although it had been deactivated long ago. The towel was rough against your left arm as you pressed it forcefully into your side.

“This isn’t exactly a good time, Ginoza. What are you even looking for?”

“Karanomori did some digging.” Your cutlery made a hideous noise as he threw it onto the floor, clattering onto the tile. “You’ve made 29 trips to 29 different doctors in the past few months.”

Damn Karanomori. The technician had always been kind to you, but whenever it came to gossip, nothing would stop her. You didn’t doubt for a second that she caved as soon as Ginoza waltzed in, asking about his poor broken fiancée. 

“I’m in pain,” you said, not quite lying. He found your locked drawer and jerked at it. He turned to stare at you coldly.

“Unlock this.”

“No.” You pressed the cloth deeper into your wounds, hoping that the blood would staunch. You had to grab the nearest thing as he’d banged onto your door, and the white was starting to get compromised.

“I command you as an Inspector.”

“And I quote Article 35, outlining protection against search and seizure.”

“I think you’ve forgotten.” He jerked on the handle forcefully, and you heard the wood splinter underneath his fury. His voice was carefully measured, which only made you feel chillier. “You don’t _have_ any rights anymore.”

You exhaled slowly. “And what if I refuse to open it?”

He responded by ripping the drawer out. The old rusty lock clattered onto the floor. You had meant to switch it to an electronic one, but you were fairly certain that it was too late now. 

“Oxycodone.” He picked the orange bottles out of the box, slamming them onto your counter. “Vicodin. Hydrocodone.” You heard the pills rattle inside. “Codeine.”

“It appears that you have them all,” you murmured as he dumped the rest out, miscellaneous rainbow-coloured tablets scattering across the surface of your counter. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” 

He dropped the drawer onto the floor along with the other mess he’d made. You held your wrist close to you as you tried to back away from his advances. Your heart raced, and with the fresh cuts you wondered if you were going to pass out from blood loss. It’d probably be better that way.

“Everything’s legal. Karanomori can tell you—” 

He pried the towel away from you, the rough fibers scraping into your cuts. You sucked your teeth as he pulled your arm out to look, the red still oozing out steadily. 

“…when?” he asked, his energy dissipated.

“It’s nothing of your concern,” you spat. You pulled your arm away from him, curling your fingers so that the blood wouldn’t drip onto the ground. He looked utterly defeated standing there, looking down at the red on his fingertips.

“This isn’t exactly a sanctioned method of relieving stress,” he said, his expression indiscernible to you.

“It helps. Isn’t that all that matters to you? That I keep my psycho-pass clear?” you hadn’t meant to be so snide, but you were feeling light-headed and furious with everything that he’d discovered. You hated that you went to bed every night with a different combination of drugs, wondering which one would finally kill you. And of course, now he knew how fucking depressing you were too. 

You didn’t want to be such a sob story. Every time you dug the blade into yourself, you thought of how miserably clichéd you were. But it had felt good. Like pulling broken muscles. Like holding your breath until you were faint. Pressing bruises. It hadn’t meant to be a cry for attention, but now, you desperately wanted him to say something to you. To hug you, and tell you that it would be all right, even if it wasn’t. Or to yell at you; you wanted him to be angry that you’d done this to yourself. Anything at all to tell you that he still cared about you. Fuck, you just needed to be _lied_ to.

He looked up at you. A long time ago, he might’ve wept for you. Now, he merely stared.

“…there’s a debriefing and then we’re sieging. Be on time.”

He left immediately, leaving you with roads of blood running down your wrist and tears flooding your face.

\---

You had never gotten used to riding in the armoured vehicles. They were cold, and dark inside whenever the screen was off. Every turn threatened to launch you into the wall opposite. The rides had been bearable with Sasayama joking around, but now, it was merely silent.

“It’s quiet,” Masaoka said sadly, voicing your thoughts. Kunizuka sighed gently in agreement. You merely picked at the gauze peeking out from under your sleeves, wondering if it was too obvious. A younger you would have encouraged the team, but those energetic and empathetic qualities had long since been stifled.

When the damned vehicle finally stopped, there wasn’t much action to burst into. You jumped out of the van, your eyes glued to the tarp in the middle of the street. Police holograms and drones kept back the crowd, faking cheerful calm, but a strong stench of vomit told you that many had already seen what lay underneath. Your nose wrinkled. The thought of death didn’t sicken you nearly as much as the man throwing up in the bushes did, and that disturbed you. 

The tarp shelter was still being set up, so Ginoza stood alone in the open, tapping furiously on his holo-device. You almost asked why Kogami wasn’t there, but remembered what had happened to him with a jolt. Distantly, you _wished_ that your friend had only been around the corner on a smoke break.

“Don’t,” he said sharply as Masaoka tried to lift the tarp. His angular green eyes burned behind his glasses. The frame reflected the blazing artificial lights of Tokyo nightlife, and you couldn’t read his expression behind the glare. Masaoka obeyed and stepped away.

“What’s wrong?” Kunizuka asked, crossing her arms over herself. Ginoza merely shook his head.

“There’s nothing to see. She matches the killer’s MO.”

“Recently engaged? Tall and dark haired? Cut to shreds?”

“Yes.”

“It seems we have a serial killer. This is the third one.” Masaoka gave a large, regretful sigh and then went to help with the base set-up. Kunizuka went with him, and suddenly, it was just you and he.

“Ginoza, can I talk to you?” you blurted it out and wanted to slap yourself immediately afterwards, but he’d already looked up coolly.

“What do you want?”

You gestured towards a more private area that was farther from the steadily building crowd. The hum of onlookers whispering was subdued behind the truck and you took a deep breath to prepare yourself. 

“I don’t think we should take this case.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Masaoka said it himself. It’s a serial case. I thought you’d want to _prevent_ crime.”

“I do, but…” you weren’t sure how to say it. His scowl grew deeper.

“Just spit it out.” Then, with quiet spite, “it’s not as if you can say anything that’ll offend me further.”

“I don’t want _you_ on this case.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” you closed your eyes so that you wouldn’t have to see his expression, “the victims remind me of myself.”

They had all resembled you in some way. The past two had such similar features to yours that when you stared down at them, it was like looking into a mirror. Each of them had neat wedding bands on their cold fingers, too. _Yours_ became ever colder against your heart, which was now beating frantically.

He breathed for a moment, loud in the cold air. You could see wisps of steam curl in the dark. When he replied, his voice was neutral and calm.

“Does that matter?”

Your eyelids fluttered. “I… I thought that it wouldn’t be good for you.”

He stared at you before snorting once, the laugh harsh. His tone was jovial in an ugly way. “Once again, you’re thinking of _my_ mental health? My psycho-pass thanks you for your concern. It’s too bad that you don’t ever think of _me_.”

“Ginoza, please…” you weren’t sure what you were pleading him for. Compassion? Understanding? Forgiveness?

“Of _course_ I care!”

His raised voice made you yelp with surprise and you covered your mouth with both shaky hands, gauze scraping against your chin. He had pushed you up against the side of the van. His breath was hot and your back was freezing, and you shuddered all the same.

“Of course I care about you. Did you think I hadn’t seen the similarity sooner? …but it doesn’t _matter_.” He seethed for a moment, taking his rough hands off of you. You pulled your hands away from your face and wrapped them tightly around yourself. “We need to make sure that other people don’t end up dead. So do _not_ tell me to drop this case.”

“…I understand.” Your voice was feeble. He looked at you for a while before his gaze dropped to your hands.

“How are you?”

It was the most care he’d shown you in a while. Stunned, you almost forgot to reply.

“Okay. I guess.”

His lips pressed together in a tight white line. Gently, he reached down and tucked the tip of dressing underneath your blazer’s sleeve. You could feel his fingers graze your skin. He used to trace the veins of your wrists, so visible they were under your pale skin, and you’d missed the gossamer feeling of his touch. His long sigh was barely audible.

“Stay that way.”

He left, and you were still debating whether or not you should’ve said anything afterwards.


	8. [viii] - "I Should Die"

The thunder cracked, jostling you out of that purgatory state of half-awake and half-asleep. You rubbed your eyes.

The office was empty. The only company you had was the bobblehead Ko had gifted you as a joke. You could faintly hear the cooling fans whir. The lights had turned off automatically and you squinted blearily in the dark. 

You’d taken up your promise to Ginoza and stayed off of drugs and booze. But you hadn’t slept in three days, and you were starting to wonder if you might die of no sleep. Your lips twitched. What a joke _that_ would be. Survive everything up until now, only to die because you couldn’t knock yourself out.

You waved your hand and the lights turned back on, flashing once before settling into its normal brightness. You held your hands over the keyboard and rebooted your computer. The hall outside was just as quiet as the room. The holodevice on your wrist told you that it was 2 in the morning. Even the janitorial drones didn’t dare to venture HQ floors at this time. But, you didn’t want to go home either, so you opened the file you had been reading before nodding off. Rain audibly pelted the side of the building and you shivered slightly.

There were still 5 probable suspects for the Widower. You instinctively frowned when you read over the nickname. You didn’t like naming murderers. It made you feel as if they were pets to be cooed over. After all, your nickname was “Psycho-passer”, the psychotic freak who’d managed to worm her way back into the force.

You scrolled down. 3 of the suspects were men who had their fiancées leave them and had had minor connections to the victims. 2 were women. Your eyes lingered on a girl who had red blotches marking her skin like acid burns. She stared fiercely into the camera. Rei Okita. She had only been put on the suspect list because of you, because you hadn’t been able to get her stare out of your head. You looked further into her profile. She used to work for the medical examiner’s office before having a psychotic episode, stabbing the corpse a total of 102 times. She’d been demoted to a maintenance worker for her deteriorated psycho-pass before dropping off of the map. Her record before it was pristine. Now, she might’ve been dead, but nobody would’ve cared. 

With a chill, you were reminded of yourself. The only thing was that,

“You didn’t deserve it.”

“Now you’re _talking_ to yourself?”

You spun around and nearly fell out of your chair. Ginoza stood in the doorway, his hair dripping wet from either a shower or the early morning downpour. Either way, his clothes clung to his frame, and you swallowed thickly. He glowered at you as you pressed a hand over your wildly beating heart.

“You’re here early,” he muttered nonchalantly, walking past you to take a seat at his desk. His jacket brushed against the back of your chair.

“I… I never left. What are _you_ doing here? You should be getting sleep.”

You couldn’t help but watch as he slicked back his hair, his long fingers splayed across his black hair. You could feel those hands in your hair, cradling you. He suddenly looked over and you hastily stared at your computer screen. 

“…it’s the same as you. I’m trying to get insight into the murderer.”

With a bit of relief, you noticed that he didn’t call the killer “Widower”. You looked back onto Okita’s profile, her picture still glaring at you. This time, you thought she looked slightly sad. An array of goosebumps littered your arms.

“What do you think about Okita Rei?” you asked after a while, having to mentally prepare yourself. You felt his gaze on you and your skin flared with heat.

“Why?”

“I… I’ve got a hunch.”

Ginoza crossed the room and leant on your chair. Surprised, you froze. He reached over you to scroll back up. You were painfully aware of his closeness against your back, his heat radiating onto you. A droplet of water fell on your cheek. You didn’t dare breathe.

“If you’re serious… we’ll look into her,” he said after a moment. He shifted away and you breathed a sigh. Perhaps it was disappointment. You twisted around to look up at him, and noticed that he was already staring down at you. He blinked when you made eye contact with him.

“What is it?” you asked nervously.

“It’s… it’s nothing.” He turned away and went back to his desk. Even in your exhausted state, you were sure that there had been a softness in those haunting green eyes.

\---

It was a colder October evening than usual. The night sky was cloudy and dark, as if a curtain had been thrown over the stars. The rain had stopped but there was still a leftover dampness that chilled you to the bone. You stared upwards glumly, shivering as the howling wind sunk through to create an endless cold.

“What are you doing? Snap out of it, Hound 3.”

“Yessir.”

It felt strange to say it to him despite having been an Enforcer for so long. He pushed past you, Inspector’s coat billowing. You followed. Kunizuka peered her head out of the van as you approached, her face more anxious than normal.

“It’s not looking good. I can’t get coverage inside Okita’s building. It’s a dead zone.”

Ginoza scowled, grabbing a Dominator from the cart. You hesitated before carefully pulling out yours. It whirred to life and registered you, but the calm voice still made you shudder. After all, you didn’t exactly feel ‘safe’ when holding a machine that labeled you as a criminal. 

“Where’s Hound 1?” he asked, looking around. Only Kunizuka was there, along with a single drone. 

“He’s covering the perimeter.”

“Why isn’t there back-up?” Ginoza tapped on his holo-device. “We should be getting the replacement—” he stopped himself before choosing friendlier words to the dead, “—a new enforcer this month. Where is he?” 

“Mr. Kagari doesn’t get released until next week.”

“Shit.” He shoved his Dominator into his pocket and tapped on the holo-device, pulling up the CID’s list. You flinched when you saw your grim face pop up under Division 1’s enforcers, alongside the painfully blank space where Sasayama’s had been. “None of the others are available?”

“No. I’ve contacted them—everyone in 2 and 3 has gone out on separate assignments. We’re on our own.”

You were missing Kogami, who would’ve shrugged and said it to be no big deal. Even Sasayama’s ass grabbing would have been welcome. But there was only the screech of wind as it burned against your ears.

“…drones?” Ginoza’s urgent voice snapped you out of sentimental memories.

“No, they don’t work in dead zones. Once you go in, all communication is off until you exit. I can monitor the cameras outside, but otherwise…”

“Great.” He pulled the Dominator back out before looking at you pointedly. “…cover me.”

“Yessir.”

It wasn’t difficult to pick the lock. When the door swung open, your stomach turned. The interior looked incredibly sad without any holo to obscure the old, cracking paint. The lights were dim and flickered, and the hum of ancient technology from a century ago filling the house. You kicked a dirty, yellowed sock out of your way, your nose scrunching up in disgust. Nobody was registered to have lived here ever since Okita had gone off the grid. A smell of death suggested something otherwise.

Ginoza gave you the signal for back-to-back coverage. You obeyed. He was warm when you pressed against him, but you tried to ignore it as you scanned the area, allowing him to lead you into the unknown. 

He froze, causing you to walk into him. Your muscles all contracted at once, afraid of what he’d found.

“It’s a body,” he mumbled, crouching down. Your heart dropped. So you hadn’t made it in time. You kept to keeping watch, but the dying lighting on the walls made it difficult to see. 

Once you were satisfied it was clear, you turned to look. The young woman lay in a halo of her own blood. You only wished that it had been quick. A rat squealed and skittered away when it saw you, and your stomach clenched. Ginoza was turning over her hand.

“You shouldn’t disturb the scene,” you whispered. He ignored you.

“Recently married. She fits the MO.” He dropped the girl’s hand, allowing you to see her gold wedding band, flecked all over with red. It only made the one around your neck heavier.

“She’s probably gone,” he continued, standing up and wiping his hand on his pant leg. “You were right about Okita.”

“She wouldn’t leave.”

Ginoza looked at you sharply and you fumbled for words.

“If I were her…” you regretted starting off that way, because now it sounded as if you knew Rei Okita personally. As if you _were_ the killer. You took a shaky breath and continued, keeping your voice low and monotonous to disguise the disgusting meaning behind them. “I wouldn’t leave. I would stay to watch the girl die. It’s why she slices their veins. She wants to see them bleed out slowly. She wants to see the life leave their body. Ginoza, she’s probably still here.”

“…I see.” He looked away and you knew you’d hurt him again. Your heart sank.

“Ginoza,” you blurted out suddenly, unable to keep your thoughts to yourself any longer. He glanced at you, silently reprimanding you for speaking when you’d just said that the killer could still be around. But you couldn’t keep quiet. 

“What?” he whispered, turning away to advance into the apartment. You followed him, your nerves so on edge that every shadow looked like a pitiful girl holding a knife.

“Do you love me?”

You saw him slow before continuing forwards. “That’s not a question for now,” he hissed.

“Don’t dodge the question. Do you?” you were remembering how he had looked at you in the morning. The mere memory made your heart flutter.

“It doesn’t matter.” He looked at you, tucking his Dominator onto his belt. The rest of the apartment had been vacated. You still felt uneasy but trusted Ginoza, lowering your own weapon. 

“It does,” you murmured, voice hoarse. “I know you loved me then. But do you love me _now_?”

“I don’t know why you keep pressing the topic. We’re over. You know that.”

“I do,” you snapped, tears suddenly stinging your burning eyes. “Of course I know! But do you _love_ me?”

“I refuse to answer the question.” He brushed past you, pushing you aside. You stumbled. “Come on. We’re leaving.”

“You’re not saying no.” You followed, but your face was twisted into a scowl. You could feel the cold wedding band against your warm skin, pressing into you. “ _Nobuchika_.”

“Why do you care so much all of the sudden?” He stopped just before the girl. You could see her staring up at you, her mouth still open in a silent scream. 

“I…” you couldn’t say anything because your eyes were glued to the girl, whose hands were outstretched, reaching for somebody who wasn’t there. You closed your mouth and let your gaze fall to the floor. Ginoza stepped towards you.

“Is something wrong?” he asked. His voice betrayed no emotion, but there were no traces of resentment—for once. Your shoulders slumped in defeat.

“I’m scared,” you finally admitted, your breath hitching in your throat as you stared down at the dead girl. Her eyes were glazed over but you might’ve mistaken her to be alive, if not for the gruesome slash across her throat. “I keep thinking that I might be next. And I keep getting these visions… where I’m getting stabbed…”

“You haven’t been sleeping, have you?” You felt his gaze on you, hard. You shook your head. “So you’re just hallucinating. It’s fine.”

You looked up slowly, and in a hollow voice, you whispered, “I’m going to die someday. 

We all are.”

He stared back at you. 

“We should get going,” he said finally, but made no move to leave. “They’re waiting.”

“You know what? I _should_ die,” you mumbled, unable to conceal your thoughts from him any longer. “I’ve caused you so much pain. What’s even the point of me being alive anymore…?”

“Shut up.” He abruptly and roughly grabbed your hand and started pulling you towards the door. Your feet dragged as you turned to look back at the dead girl, who was still reaching out desperately. Behind her was a girl, obscured slightly in the dark, but you saw a revolver in her hands. You squinted. It must’ve been at least 50 years old, that gun. You only recognized it from your old textbooks.

“I really should get some sleep,” you muttered to yourself dryly, slowing to a stop. Ginoza jerked on your hand impatiently before turning around to look at you.

“Do you want the truth?” he hissed, his voice suddenly heated. You blinked wearily as his grip tightened on you. “Here’s the truth. _Yes_. I love you. And yes, I hate you for it, but not as much as I hate myself. Are you happy?”

But you ignored him, stepping back towards the body, trying to get a better look at the shadowy figure at the end of the hall. You waved Ginoza off when he called your name. Everything was rolling off of you as you peered down the hall.

“Hey,” he said through gritted teeth, pulling on your hand again. You shook him off. Were you really hallucinating? Ginoza persistently followed you, and you only heard his heavy footsteps from far away. His words were muffled and you heard him without really understanding him. “Hey, look at me. It’s going to be okay.”

“No,” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes. The girl still stood there, not having moved an inch. You blinked. You were probably at a bad point in your life when you were questioning your own sanity. Your Hue was probably a mess. But you couldn’t get rid of this sinking dread as the figure raised her arm—

“Get down!” you shrieked, but the shadowy gun had already proved its existence by firing into your gut.


	9. [ix] - "Promise"

_“Please… I’m begging you. Help me! **Help me, goddammit, help me**!_

You awoke sharply as if you had been slapped, a gasp breaking apart your dry lips to fill your sore lungs. An unfamiliar ceiling loomed over you and you exhaled slowly. The monotonous heartbeat monitor’s beeping eased you back into consciousness. You’d lived, hadn’t you?

You weren’t all too pleased about that.

In an attempt to sit up, a jolt of pain ran through your lower abdomen. You bit down on your tongue to prevent a scream of pain to escape, but a low moan squeezed its way out. You were then aware of a pair of familiar hands on your shoulders. Black tufts of hair tickled your forehead as he reached behind you to help prop you up. 

“Nobuchika…?” you wheezed instinctively, wincing as you addressed him by his given name. He said nothing in response. He fed you a straw where you greedily sucked up water, nearly choking on yourself in your haste.

“How do you feel?” he asked wearily. His voice was low and husky, and you felt a shiver run through your spine to your toes. 

You chose not to answer him, for obvious reasons, and looked around the room. There wasn’t much. It was an average hospital room. The only thing setting it apart from the others was _him_ at your bedside. You studied him. He looked exceptionally tired, more than usual, and his hair was pressed oddly. You saw a distinct stiffness in his neck, the one you would get if you’d slept in a hospital chair at somebody’s bedside.

“You stayed here all this time?” you guessed tiredly. He said nothing again, but rolled his neck to the side guiltily, confirming your suspicions.

“It’s been 8 hours since you passed out at Okita’s. You’re lucky you survived.”

You pushed your blankets down to look at the wound. Gauze and clean bandages were wrapped tightly around your entire abdomen, making each breath a challenge. 

“What happened?” you asked, sinking back into the pillows. 

“Her shot missed. It hit your pelvis.”

A frown curled your lips. “That’s far from the vitals. Only a Dominator would do any sort of damage at the hip.”

“She was using an old revolver.” He leant forwards onto your bed and you were suddenly aware of how close he was. His weight was noticeably dipping the thin mattress and you swallowed, unable to take your eyes off of him. He was looking elsewhere. You followed his gaze to the box of painkillers attached to the wall behind you.

“Don’t worry,” he said dryly once he’d noticed you noticing. “I asked them to lock it on the minimum.”

“Bastard,” you accused, but you smiled all the same. Despite the haze of pain, you were faintly aware that something had changed. Maybe it was getting shot. But you felt closer to him. No, it wasn’t him. It was the time where everything had really been all right. 

His expression faltered into a scowl again. Softly, he murmured, barely audible, “you took that bullet for me.” 

You looked down at your hand where he’d grasped it, his long fingers curling around yours.

“Of course I did,” you spluttered after you got over your shock. Your face felt embarrassingly warm and you had to look away. What were you, an idiotic teenager who thought her crush was in love with her just because he had blinked in her general direction? You swallowed thickly and looked away. “It’s an Enforcer’s job.”

“Was that all?” he stared down at your hands, his thumb rubbing against your dry skin. Your heart felt like it might leap out of your throat.

“…no.”

It was like that for a long time, before he drew away. Confused, you raised your head, to see him pull something out of his pocket.

“The surgeons gave it to me before taking you in. Here.”

He handed the ring back to you, the chain still around it. It fell out of his hands like molten silver, and you put your hands out for it. He drew it out of reach.

“Nobuchika?” you asked, using his first name hesitantly. If he was offended, he said nothing about it. Instead, he stared down at the pendant.

“I gave this to you as a promise… to marry you.”

You weren’t sure where he wanted to go with this. But you listened, your heart rate audibly quickening on the monitor behind you. Your stitches felt in danger of bursting.

“I’m going to give it to you as another promise.”

You raised your eyebrows stiffly and chuckled darkly. “You know we can’t ever get married, right? Have you forgotten?”

He rolled his eyes slightly. “Yes, of course I know.” He put the metal in your hands, his warm touch lingering on your skin even when he withdrew. 

“This is a promise that I’ll never stop loving you.”

You might as well have been shot again, but you tried to maintain your cool, struggling to breathe. 

“Why? Why do you need to promise me that?” You let the ring fall against your shirt, its familiar weight comforting.

“You asked me if I loved you. Now you’ll always have proof. …I know that I shouldn’t. But I do. I still love you.”

He looked shy, suddenly. His gaze was intensely directed to the wall behind you. He said nothing further, but you preferred that, because it allowed you to kiss him without retort.

“Get some sleep, okay?” you whispered against his neck. He sighed and you felt some of his worry leave his tried frame. “Say hello to Ko and the others for me. Dime, too.”

“Fine.” He leant away slowly, his eyes searching yours for something. You smiled gently. Seemingly satisfied, he threw his jacket on, and began to leave.

“I love you too,” you called after him. He stopped. His hand gave a small wave of acknowledgement and then he was gone, finally leaving you alone.

You shook your head, letting it fall back onto the pillows heavily.

“Now he goes and does _this_ …” you whispered to yourself bitterly, closing your eyes. It had only made it harder for you to do what you had to. It wasn’t going to stop you, but as you ripped IV cords out of your arm and broke your holo-device under your heel, there were tears streaming from your eyes. You hadn’t gotten to say goodbye, but you hoped that he would understand from the ring left behind on the table, the pendant chain streaming from it like molten silver.


	10. [x] - "Of Course I Did"

“Look, shouldn’t we just terminate her?”

His gaze snapped up to Aoyanagi. She had volunteered to drive him as his car had been confiscated for analysis—annoyingly so. She kept her eyes on the road, though her tone indicated that she was deep in thought. Her elegant fingers drummed a tattoo onto the steering wheel.

“What are you saying?” he asked testily, despite the fact that he knew damn well what she was saying.

“I know she was your fiancée. She was my good friend too, remember? But she defected at a critical moment. You _know_ what we have to do with rogue enforcers.”

“Some friend of yours,” he said sarcastically, looking away quickly so that he wouldn’t say anything that he’d regret. His fingers tightened around his mother’s wedding ring, the band concealed in his fist. The ridges of the necklace chain dug into his skin.

Kogami had suggested that you’d gone on some wild goose chase for Okita. But he couldn’t fathom why you would even bother. You were injured and vulnerable. No clues had risen up. Not even after the shooting. What were you looking for? Why hadn’t you just told him? He was still wondering if you’d lied to him…

_“I love you too.”_

His ground his teeth together before closing his eyes, exhaling deeply. It would do him no good to cloud his psycho-pass. He wouldn’t allow you to hurt him any more than you already had. But when he opened his eyes, he was still thinking of you. He just didn’t understand why you would—

“Ginoza? We’re _here_.”

He looked up to see Kogami’s apartment building.

Curtly, he thanked her, despite not feeling any sincerity behind the empty words. He was already halfway out of the car before Aoyanagi leant over, calling after him.

“Ginoza!”

“What?” He crouched to peer back into the car irritably. The weather was cold and he shivered under the cloud of fog that hadn’t dissipated since your disappearance.

“I’m just saying. You’ve got to consider that she might have just tried to run. Hoof beats aren’t always zebras.”

“Considered.”

He slammed the door shut and left.

\---

Kogami hadn’t been much help, himself.

“I’ll probably get transferred into First Div again,” the taller man mused lazily, ignoring Ginoza’s line of questioning entirely. His words were muffled around the lit cigarette. Ginoza’s stomach gave a frightful lurch as he figured out what his friend was insinuating but said nothing; instead, he wiped at his water-speckled glasses.

“What, Kogami? If she turns out to be dead? Or we need to terminate her?”

Kogami looked at him in the eye. 

“You know it could happen.” 

Ashes from his cigarette fell to the floor, smoldering into nothingness as they went. He continued on, his voice drawled out on a sigh. “It happened to Sasayama. Happens to a lot of people who defect, too.”

Ginoza stared back before looking away, feeling nauseated by the thought.

“But _I_ don’t think she’ll end up that way, for the record.” 

Ginoza heard his cigarette extinguish with a quiet hiss. His mind was elsewhere. There was a picture tacked onto the wall on the way in. It was taken when you and Kogami had earned a regular vehicle’s driver’s license. It hadn’t been much of an accomplishment, but you and Kogami had treated it like some sort of big deal, celebrating together as if you’d won the lottery. His chest tightened when he remembered the smile on your young face. He didn’t bother to look over at his companion when he spoke, talking in a low voice to the floor.

“Why would you think that? Everybody seems perfectly happy to assume that she’s just a runaway. Even if she doesn’t show up dead, somebody will make sure she gets a lethal eliminator shot.”

There was a long silence before Kogami decided to speak again.

“She left you her ring, didn’t she?”

He remembered it and instinctively reached to touch it. It hadn’t had any engravings of secret notes or clues into it. He’d checked. Several times. The metal had never felt warm, no matter how long he held it.

“Yes,” he answered, hesitantly.

“Why else would she leave it, then?”

“To show me that she wanted to break off her connection with me entirely?” he suggested in a jokingly scathing tone, though the thought hurt to say aloud.

“Nah. You’re overthinking it.” Kogami kicked his feet onto his coffee table and reclined, exhaling, his breath stinking of tobacco. “Mrs. Ginoza is the girl who doesn’t stop at anything in order to find justice. Trust me. You had nothing to do with her fleeing.”

His memory flashed to when you’d had your thumbs in that man’s eyes, your hysterical shrieks resembling that of a banshee. _Doesn’t stop at anything._ He closed his eyes regretfully, willing the vision away.

“She’s not my wife, so don’t address her with my name.” He said it half-heartedly, and Kogami noticed.

“You loved her like she already was.” He lit another cigarette and was silent.

His eyes slid open and he felt the cold touch of metal on his hand. Regretfully, he smiled.

“Of course I did.”

\---

“Heyyyy. You’re _distracted_.”

You blinked and turned towards your companion, who was blowing a bubble of gum at you. You winced when it popped. Her grin was wide and sardonic as she scanned your features. The ex-psychologist, funnily enough, had a knack for psychoanalyzing. 

“Sorry Penn,” you muttered, running a hand through your hair. You shook off the many strands that came loose with the light motion.

“Is it Nobuchika bothering you? It is, isn’t it?”

Crossly, you frowned. “Don’t call him by his first name. You’ve never even met him.”

“I’m offended! You underestimate my powers of observation. You know, I was a world class psychologist before—”

“Before your psycho-pass deteriorated and you made a run for it,” you finished blandly. “I know. That’s why I asked for your help in the first place.”

Chinatsu Penn had started off and graduated as valedictorian in your social sciences class, all those years back. She was a young and beautiful prodigy with Eurasian features. Her natural blonde hair and green eyes stood out like drunks in daylight. Mixed blood was rare these days. She was your friend, you supposed. One who also kept trying to sleep with you, despite your clear disinterest. When you’d moved on towards aptitude testing and chosen a career path in law enforcement, she’d disappeared, right after starting work at a prestigious psycho-health clinic. She was too smart to get caught, and you were glad to find that she was still alive.

After slipping out of the hospital, it wasn’t difficult to track her down. Being an enforcer had its perks in the underground community. You sent out an anonymous message on one of her weird kink forums and she was there to pick you up on the back of her motorcycle before you could even consider what a huge mistake you were making. You’d hoped that she’d be able to shelter and assist you as you looked for Okita. She owed you a favour from university, and the woman was one of her word.

The room was cold and dark, even with the lit candles. No electricity, she’d declared, as the bills would be suspicious. You pulled your jacket in closer to yourself, wincing as you shifted the wound. The darkness only made you colder.

There had been a dream. Some time in that purgatorial state between life and death, when you’d drifted off, you could see her. Rei Okita. The dream had felt so real that you were still wondering if it had even been one. 

She had been weeping in a room much like the one you had occupied in your time at the isolation facility. Her frail body looked as if it might shatter if you touched her. Her sobs racked her shoulders and she turned suddenly, her hideous face filling your vision.

_“Please… I’m begging you. Help me! **Help me**!_

You flinched and looked away from the candle, blind spots dotting your sight. 

“Dear,” Chinatsu said quietly. You looked up at her and met the pitiful stare etched on her beautiful face.

“What?”

“What is it that you plan to do to this serial killer, exactly?”

You smiled wryly and touched over your heart, where the ring usually sat. It still gave you a jolt of panic when you didn't feel it, and a weary sigh escaped your lips. You let your head fall back and stared up out the boarded up window, just barely making out the pure white of the moon.

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m going to kill her.”


	11. [xi] - "Just Like That"

About one month had passed since your desertion. 

Okita had struck two times since, but despite the tragedies, you felt that each time you were getting closer. Chinatsu’s expertise on the ways of the human mind was a great help, and with your intuition, you had narrowed down the next woman she would attack. Despite Okita’s attempts to keep things random, she had shown a clear pattern through her latest victims—both were pregnant and worked as night-shift nurses at two hospitals in the central Tokyo area. Chinatsu had attributed Okita’s shift to a more personal MO to her spiraling descent into insanity. At least, you mused, the two of you had something in common.

After several sleepless nights, you were sure that you’d found the next victim. You stared at your computer screen with a grim sense of satisfaction. Atsuko Kuromine: the wife of an up-and-coming researcher in biomedicine who worked late shifts. She was pretty, with an average height, and had long dark hair that made your makeshift choppy style feel even more ugly than it looked. On her social media sites, there were pages after pages of congratulations for her pregnancy. The photo of her and her husband’s engagement made you feel sickly. It had been too easy to find her. You wished that you didn’t know why, but it was obvious—you had the tired mind and eyes of a killer yourself.

“I concur,” Chinatsu said through a mouthful of mochi, rubbing blood red lipstick off her plump lips with the back of her hand. Her green eyes skimmed the page you had blown up to the big screen and she nodded her assent once more. “Successful, pretty, in love. Okita would definitely want to kill her. Kuromine even works the same hours Okita used to.” Rei Okita’s old files were displayed on the secondary screen, and you noticed the correlation between shift hours.

“It’ll probably be tonight,” you realized with a sudden sense of dread, “that’s when her nightshift is.” You touched the plasma screen, which flickered under your touch, and drew a lazy circle around today’s date. The hospital’s server had been easy enough to hack, and Kuromine’s hour sheet was displayed. Tonight, she’d be working at the hours of 0000 to 0700. It was currently 2320…

Chinatsu finally sat up, her perfect eyebrows raised skeptically. She clasped her hands and leant forwards in the rolling chair, her expression the most serious you had ever seen it. “Ginoza dear, you’re not serious about this, are you?”

You looked down the sight of the ancient glock pistol, your finger hovering over the trigger. It made a slight click when you touched it. It was answer enough for Chinatsu and she frowned, twirling a lock of golden hair.

“If you kill her, they’ll kill you on the spot. No hesitation. ”

“I know.”

“Why would you do that?” she asked quietly, her eyes turned away from you to the profile of Atsuko Kuromine. Her image flickered on the old technology, but her smile never changed. “Don’t you _know_ what that would do to Nobuchika?”

“Don’t refer to him by his given name,” you snapped through clenched teeth, before the tension dissolved and your body slumped. Of course you knew. Your own gaze wandered over to Kuromine’s picture, whose smile was so radiant, and you noticed with a sledgehammer’s blow to the heart that they had taken their engagement photos in the same place where Nobuchika had first confessed to you. The Tokyo skyline was so familiar but so foreign, and you rubbed your eyes wistfully. You stood and clipped the gun to your belt, giving a short bow to Chinatsu. 

“Thanks for your help, Chinatsu,” you thanked quietly, standing straight. “Siphon some funds from my account before they freeze it.”

She stared at you with the cold, calculating eyes of a psychoanalyst and you couldn’t help but be reminded of the barrel of a Dominator. 

“Are you sure you won’t regret it? Because there’s no going back, Ginoza dear.”

“Don’t refer to me by his name.”

The curt response was enough for her and she shook her head, placing another mochi in her mouth. The questions were just a formality. She had already figured you out a long time ago.

The question that remained was: had _he_ , too?

Chinatsu put up a lazy hand to wave goodbye and she chewed, leaning back into her chair and shutting her eyes.

“Save me a spot in Hell, will you?” she asked as you left.

“Will do,” you said with a sad smile, closing the door behind you.

\---

It was easy to sneak in as a patient. You had feigned dizziness and shortness of breath and got whisked away to one of the spare beds in the expansive Tokyo ER. Although automations had taken over much of the nursing process, there was nothing quite like human interaction, and a small unit of nurses were making rounds. Kuromine was a few beds down, comforting an old man who had recently suffered a fall. 

“How are you feeling, Kojuro-san? Better?”

“Yes, much…”

“I’m glad! Please stay that way, all right?”

“If I get hurt again, will you be here to take care of me Kuromine-chan?”

“Oh, of course. But I’d rather you not get hurt at all, okay?”

The short exchange and the old man’s smile made your heart swell. But a frown soon creased your features. She didn’t deserve to die. Of course, your ethics and sociology classes in university made you question your own thoughts immediately after: why did _you_ deserve to judge who died and who didn’t? What did you know about Kuromine that the universe didn’t? What would Sibyl think of her?

Your existentiality was broken by a familiar voice and your heart stopped.

“I thought I’d find you here.”

You froze and turned slowly, exhaling sharply when you were greeted by a pair of icy green eyes. They did not soften when you met them and you felt your blood run as cold as his expression.

“Inspector Ginoza,” you greeted formally, crossing your arms to protect yourself. “Here to arrest me?”

“I’m here for Okita, not _you_ ,” he snapped, his voice betraying no emotion. For that, you were glad, because your own mind was tumbling with too many of them. Remorse, fear, relief, joy… You swallowed thickly and looked around for the rest of Division 1, distracting yourself from the tears welling in your eyes.

“Where are they?” you asked in a hoarse whisper.

“Positions A, Delta C, and DF.”

You nodded. Since a hospital was a public place of constantly elevated stress, there was always hesitation when it came to a police take-over. Okita had yet to show herself at the 0630 mark, and even you were starting to doubt yourself. You could see Kuromine talking to a supervisor, probably getting ready to clock out. Had you been wrong about this?

“What led you to Kuromine?” you asked, drawing your knees up to your chin. The gun under the blanket dug into your hip.

“I’m sure it was the same things that brought you here. Did you have that little faith in us?” He stood at your bedside, pretending to be very interested in your heart rate, which was slightly elevated. He gave you a short, cursory glance and looked away again, as if the mere sight of you was enough to disgust him. “I see you got a haircut.”

Instinctively you touch the dry, bleached tips. You scoffed slightly. “Makes it a little easier to avoid cameras.”

He sighed audibly, turning his back to you. You examined his outline; it didn’t seem like he had a Dominator on him, which worried you. Although the squad was settled in sniper positions, you wouldn’t feel at ease until Nobuchika had a weapon to defend himself with. But you knew why he wasn’t carrying a weapon; bursting in with a big gun clipped to your belt tended to worry most people.

“Are you _going_ to take me in?” you asked, unable to keep it to yourself any longer. You saw his shoulders tense and he turned, his mouth open with a response before his eyes widened slightly. It took a while to register with you and he had already dragged you out of the bed, dumping you onto the floor before you realized that it was a look of panic. Your shoulder joint stung sharply with impact but you had no time to chide him when a hysterical screech filled your ears.

“Bitch! You _bitch_ , why can’t you just _die_?! I killed you already, just _fucking die_!”

You scrambled to your feet and reached for the gun but was thrust back by Ginoza’s outstretched arm, a fierce look in his eyes.

“Leave her! Protect Kuromine and the people!” he shouted at you.

“But—!”

“ _Go!_ ”

He shoved you and as you fell forwards, past the disfigured woman named Rei Okita, you saw the telltale glint of a knife in her hand. Her face appeared to be melted into disfigured puddles of red fat and flesh, but even that could not mask the fire of burning hatred in her eyes as her gaze followed you for a terrifying moment. Then, Ginoza occupied her attention by grappling with her, in an attempt to disarm and incapacitate. 

You grit your teeth and obeyed orders for once in your life, sprinting across the slippery floor to Atsuko, who had froze, paralyzed with shock, a hand over her stomach. The room was silent save for Okita’s screams, but you knew that wouldn’t last. You shook Atsuko’s shoulders once, knowing that she was growing a child inside of her. 

“Get out of here! Take the patients! Hurry, please, Kuromine-san!”

A glint in the window drew your attention. It must be a sniper. You paled; if they shot, they would most certainly take you down, too. Not only that, but the mass hysteria had started to reach the crowd of already nervous patients, and they whined, shouted, and sobbed with worry. There was no doubt that the ordeal was raising their crime coefficients. If the snipers shot into such a busy room, there was no guarantee that only one would die. You turned on the spot until you located a camera in the ceiling. You prayed that Karanomori was watching and waved at the camera, communicating the police signal for “don’t shoot”. You saw the camera whir on the spot and could only hope that Karanomori would listen to you.

Atsuko was still in a daze and you apologized once before slapping her across the face.

“ _Go!_ ”

She stared at you before nodding numbly and turned to the patients. Her voice wavered but she was handling it surprisingly well for a civilian. You would just have to trust her, and you would have to pray to whatever being there was that she’d be safe. You turned back to Ginoza and saw with horror that Okita had gotten him pinned, her blade inching closer to his face as he struggled to hold her back. Rei kept screaming,

“Die! Die! Die, dammit, die!”

You stopped her with sheer force after moving on raw instinct, knowing that a shot would only travel through her body to lodge itself in Ginoza’s. Your body slammed against her with the sickening sound of a hammer striking wood and you rolled, finding yourself underneath her to take Ginoza’s place. She shrieked again, a banshee, using both hands to force the knife down towards you. If you relaxed for even a millisecond, the blade would slip right into your throat. Your face was wet, suddenly, and you saw with muted surprise that Rei was crying.

“Why do you deserve to be happy? I don’t get it! Why can’t _I_ be happy, too? Die! _Die_!”

“Stop this!” you choked out, flailing slightly with the effort to push her off of you. Your intertwined hands shook with the effort of trying to win the power struggle and you stared up at her, looking into her eyes, cloudy and obscured with marred skin. Her brown eyes were like honeyed wood bark and they dripped with anguish. “Stop it, Rei!”

“I can’t!” she sobbed, “I can’t! You deserve to die! Why do you get to be happy when I suffer like this?! You’re pretty, you’re smart… you were like me, but you’re _happy_! Fuck you, fuck you, fuck—”

“Don’t you dare talk to her in that way.”

She did not let up on the knife, but she tensed, falling silent as Ginoza cocked your gun to her head.

“This is what I mean,” she whispered, her lopsided mouth curling into a sadistic smile. “Your fiancé loves you. Do you know what mine did? He left me after a patient threw acid into my face. Why? Because I was _ugly_! I loved him. I loved him more than life and he left me because I wasn’t _pretty_! So when I had to do another autopsy, I couldn’t take it, and I saw him in that dead man’s face… so I stabbed him. Do you know how _tiring_ it is to stab a body a hundred and two times? How hard it is to drive a scalpel through bone when your hands are slippery with blood?” She hiccupped with a sob and you realized that she was starting to win, the knife coming closer and closer until it grazed your skin. “I loved him, but he didn’t care. Why do you two get to be happy? Why are you pretty; why does he love you like he never loved _me_?!”

“You’re wrong there,” you growled, enraged, “don’t you dare make assumptions about him!” You were screaming now, each word making the pale skin of your throat scratch against the tip of her knife. “I love him! I fucking love him so, so _damn_ much, and maybe he loves me too, but I don’t care! Because I’ve hurt him, just like you’ve hurt other people. So I don’t deserve it! Don’t you see, Rei? We’re the same fucking _person_!”

“Stand down,” Ginoza warned, and you heard the safety click off, “don’t say anything else—”

“Don’t shoot!” you screamed, and his words were drowned out as you desperately pleaded, “don’t shoot her, dammit!”

“She’s going to _kill_ you—!”

“Let her! I’ll die before you turn into a murderer!”

Rei’s laugh tore ribbons in the air. It was dissonant and scraped against the inside of your skull. She giggled to herself like a crazed child laughing while burning ants with a magnifying glass; and then to your surprise, she slumped. Your hands shot forwards and she tumbled away from you. The knife clattered to the side and you winced as the razor sharp edge sliced a shallow cut in the side of your neck. She fell off the right of you, onto her hands and knees, and you sat up shakily. The barrel of the gun followed Okita, but Ginoza’s jaw was clenched, and the glock shook in his hands.

“Ginoza,” you muttered, getting to your shaky feet. You staggered to him and put the hand not on your bloody neck over his, feeling him stiffen under your touch. “Nobuchika, let go.”

“I can’t—”

“Yes, you can. Let go.”

“She was going to _kill_ you,” he said, giving you a short glance that said it all. You winced at the panicked tone in his voice. “You could be dead, right now…”

“But I’m not dead,” you whispered soothingly, your hand slowly bringing his down. You brought his hand towards you and uncurled his fingers, shaking the weapon out of his hands. “I’m not dead. I’m right here.”

He blinked at you blankly before whirling back to Okita, who had risen silently during the exchange, the knife back in her hands. She was sobbing openly, her words barely coherent with the violent shudders of her body.

“I hate you,” she shrilled finally, “I hate your love!”

She ran forwards, diving towards Ginoza, and you squared your shoulders and shot her. The glock pistol wasn’t as loud as some of the others you had shot in the academy, but it was explosive to your concussed head, and there was deafening silence right after. The gun fell from your hand, clattering onto the floor, as Rei looked at you curiously.

She stumbled backwards afterwards, her face morphing into an incredulity that asked, _did you just shoot me?_ She looked down at the blood slowly blossoming across her chest like a blooming flower and she dropped to the floor, a weak hand flapping over the wound desperately. She looked up at you and you looked down, the kickback of the gun making your arm ache, the throbbing in your head making stars dance in your vision.

She smiled.

“Thank you,” she said serenely, showing calm for the first time. The hand fell from her chest as her head bowed down towards you. It looked as if she were praying. “Thank…”

She didn’t finish the expression of gratitude and died, falling forwards as if to kneel for forgiveness. It happened so quickly that you had to stare at her for a while. Just like that, she was gone.

“You…” 

Ginoza was also cut short as you fell yourself, your knees growing too weak to support you. Your breathing was shallow, labored and panicked, and your hands were sticky with hot blood. Your blood. Rei’s knife was on the ground to the side of you, and droplets of your blood trailed from its tip, like dots of ink trailing from a brush. His strong arms lowered you slowly and you lay on the floor, rust bubbling in your throat as you stared up into his horrified face.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, spitting aside the taste. A string of bloody spittle trailed from your lip and you couldn’t move yourself to wipe it away. A heaving cough followed after, each bringing seizing pain across your abdomen—and with each one, you wondered if it might be your last.

“Sorry? Sorry doesn’t cut it—what the hell were you thinking?! That was meant for me!” You gasped with pain as he pressed his hands into your side, much like he had in the apartment. The entire thing felt like a repeat. But you knew that you weren’t going to survive this one. There was no way.

“Nobuchika,” you said softly, struggling to rasp out the words. “Listen to me…”

“You killed her so that I wouldn’t have to, right? That’s what you said. How could you be so stupid?! Now _you’re_ going to die—how dare you! How _dare_ you…?!”

“ _Nobuchika_.”

“What?” he gasped through tears. They splattered on your skin like hot rain and you smiled weakly, reaching up a hand to touch his face.

“You still have… the ring?”

“Of course I do.”

“Good,” you mumbled, your eyelids fluttering shut. “That’s good, then.”

“Hey, wait. Open your damn eyes, you idiot!”

“I love you,” you said calmly, feeling your strength leave you slowly. A peaceful warmth blanketed you and again you were reminded of waking up in his bed, Dime panting happily while lapping at you. “I love you… Nobuchika… more than you know.”

“I love you too! So open your eyes, _please_ …”

“I’m sorry we couldn’t get married,” you mumbled, but you weren’t sure if the sentiment made it out of your thoughts. You lay in his arms on a cold hospital floor, comforted by his warmth. You had already prepared yourself for this, but you still felt a pang of sorrow. You hadn’t thought that he’d be there when you died, and you felt guilty for having to put him through this… but you were also grateful that he would be the last person you would ever see. 

“I’m really sorry, but I’m glad to have known you… Nobuchika.”

“That doesn’t matter to me—don’t be sorry!” he cried, his body shuddering, “it’s too damn late for that. The least you can do is live, so just, _please_ …”

“I love you…”

“Hey, please… _please_ , no.”

“I’ll watch over you, okay? So stay alive, and keep saving lives… of the people like Atsuko… for me…”

“I’ll do that if you stay with me!” he pleaded angrily, desperately, but you used the remainder of your energy to shake your head once. The defeat settled over him like a stifling fog and he slumped towards you, pressing you to his chest.

“I love you,” he choked out.

You smiled for the last time and your hand fell away from his cheek.

“I know.”

Soon, you were unable to hear the screams coming from him as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, as if to hold onto the remnant of your being as you left. Tears welled in your own eyes. Tears of joy for being able to leave behind your wretched life, tears of regret for leaving behind the one person who had made that wretched life worthwhile…

Clear tears. The colour of joy.

The colour of regret.

You closed your eyes.

_I’m sorry; I love you; Goodbye_

And just like that;

you died.


	12. [xii] - "The Colour of Regret"

“I don’t mind driving you or anything, but I have to ask… who was this woman?”

Kogami looked over at Tsunemori curiously, an unlit cigarette hanging out of his mouth. He would’ve liked to smoke, of course, but he didn’t want to fill the car up with the noxious fumes, as both Ginoza and Tsunemori had already complained and whined enough for a lifetime. He took it out to speak.

“She was a friend. A close friend.”

“Was she your girlfriend?” Tsunemori asked innocently, but Kogami merely snorted, the thought making him laugh.

“No, not mine. Although I might’ve liked her to be at one point, when we were younger.” He stuck the cigarette back into his mouth and typed up a name into his holo device’s search function, sending the file over to Tsunemori. “Here, read for yourself. She was a good person. It’s a shame that I missed her funeral because I was still in the rehab centre...”

The automated car smoothly took over as she checked her holo device, the green backlight reflecting off of wide brown eyes.

“Wait. She was _married_ to… to Inspector _Ginoza_?!” She looked over at him wildly as if it were a joke.

He couldn’t help but laugh again. It had been surprising to him, too. “Not legally. She got decommissioned before they could get it done. I think the old man pulled some strings for his daughter-in-law.”

“…that’s horrible. I never knew that about Inspector Ginoza.”

He chewed on the stick, the taste of tobacco subtle over his teeth. You had hated it when he smoked, he knew. _You’ll die early, you know,_ you’d always chided. Sadly, he recognized the irony. It had been the first thought that came to mind when he had been informed of your death.

_You died before I did, hypocrite._

“He doesn’t like to talk about her. In fact, he’d rather pretend that she never existed. That’s why I had to ask you to take me.” He paused as Ginoza’s pained face flashed across his memory. He took the cigarette out again, twirling it in his fingers. It was the last one that you’d given him. It had staled some in the years, but he had kept it for sentimentality. “She used to be a highly respected Inspector. Then she was just an Enforcer. A hell of a good Enforcer. I really wanted to be able to work with her when there were no strings attached.” He shoved the cigarette back into his mouth, finally lighting it, rolling down the window out of courtesy. He took a long draw, exhaling slowly while looking upwards through the sun roof. The heavy clouds drifted lazily across the sun, making the day dark. 

“It would’ve really been something,” he muttered regretfully.

“So she was like you?” Tsunemori looked at him with glum eyes. “She got demoted.”

“I think… that I was more like her.”

Tsunemori sighed sadly and put her hand back on the wheel, steering carefully. Her driving was cautious and slow, but it was also relaxing to sit and watch trees fly by. 

“How did she die?” she asked after a short while, a tentative tone of hesitation straining her voice.

Kogami wasn’t sure if he should tell her. But it wasn’t as if you were in the back seat, chiding him. No matter how much anybody wished you were. “She was killed in action. She shot her killer, but she wasn’t fast enough. But she saved Gino’s life by taking the knife for him.”

“…I suppose you can’t deny that she loved him.”

He chuckled darkly, blowing the blue smoke into the car, watching it get whisked away. His thoughts drifted and he thought of your apartment. He’d been able to visit you often, as the two of you had shared a building, but the last time he’d gone was to clean up everything you’d ever owned. He’d been the first to volunteer to pack up your belongings. He couldn’t bear the thought of people who didn’t care about you coming into the office and throwing your belongings into a box to be incinerated. And he didn’t want Gino to be there, either. A certain photo he’d taken for you was fresh in his memory—the one where you had Ginoza’s arm wrapped around your shoulder, the Tokyo skyline in the background. Your grin was so wide that it was blinding.

“No,” he said remorsefully, “you can’t.”

\---

The weather was poor. Kogami held his jacket’s collar up to shield his face from the wind. Tsunemori stayed in the car, refusing to accompany him, not wanting to disturb you. _‘As if she’ll be disturbed when she’s 6 feet under,’_ he had thought, but he respected her wishes all the same. Of course, you had been cremated as all Enforcer’s bodies were, but most of your ashes had been spread as nourishment for a growing sakura blossom tree. Life went on. The tombstone he was visiting was just that; a stone with your name engraved. One day, that would be gone. Someday, the memory of you would die, too.

When he rounded the corner, he nearly ran away, because Ginoza was standing there already. The taller man looked up before Kogami could leave and registered Kogami with a sort of mild exasperation. 

“Sorry, I didn’t know you were here.” Kogami walked forwards slowly, stopping at a respectful distance. Ginoza looked back at the smooth stone platform, both of his hands tucked into his pockets. 

“I needed to return something.”

It was surprising to hear him talk. Kogami looked over your grave more carefully. There was no part of you under the stone, as the tree you were growing was elsewhere, ceremoniously grown in the MWPSB’s garden. He wondered if you would appreciate your body being forever grounded to the very place you had deserted. He scanned the flowers and gifts before seeing something sparkle at him aggressively in the dimming light.

“You sure it’s safe to leave expensive rings sitting here?” he asked, crouching to examine them. There was a second one, linked to the other through a pendant chain. Kogami didn’t remember Ginoza having one, but he didn’t question it.

“The site is monitored. If anybody tries to loot, the drones are activated.” He responded in an automated monotone, but Kogami couldn’t blame him. Ginoza didn’t bother to gesture, but Kogami looked anyways. Rows of mechanical drones lined the edge of the graveyard like guards, watching over the deceased. At least you wouldn’t be totally lonely.

“You should’ve brought Dime with you. She loved him.” He only just remembered the large dog that you’d always fussed over. There were times that you paid more attention to the mutt than to your lover.

“Dime wouldn’t leave the house. He thinks she’s coming back, so I can’t get him to leave.”

“Oh.”

Everything Kogami said seemed to be making things more depressing. Remembering with a jolt, he hastily placed the flowers that had been tucked under his arm. Ginoza arched an eyebrow.

“It’d be rude of me not to leave anything for her,” he said, almost lamely. Despite having seen more death than he should’ve, Kogami still wasn’t very good at handling it. “They’re from Professor Saiga’s garden. He remembered that they were her favourite.”

“I see.” A curt nod. “Is he well?”

“Enough.”

Kogami didn’t say anything else, holding his breath in as if breathing would be a violation of privacy. The lifeless responses were already more words than he’d heard from Gino in a while, and he didn’t want to disturb that.

“…do you know what her psycho-pass was when she died?” It was less of a question than a dare, and Kogami took it, grateful to be talking to his best friend again.

“No. What was it?”

“Powder blue.”

Surprised, Kogami had to make sure he wasn’t hearing things wrong. “She had a clear pass when she was dying?” Then, cursing himself for insensitivity, he shut up.

“I saw the records. Crime co-efficient, zero. Hue, powder blue.” He chuckled softly but without humour, light starting to reflect off of his glasses with the setting sun. You hated sunsets, he remembered. “Life vitals, zero.”

Kogami didn’t know how to reply, so he merely put a hand on his friend’s shoulder. It slumped underneath his touch.

“She was more sane than she was when I first met her. She was _clear_ ,” he muttered, almost with disbelief.

“I guess it’s because she had you there, right?”

He laughed again, dryly. “If that’s what you’d like to believe.”

Kogami didn’t make a move to leave, but he looked back upon your grave, the flowers fluttering in the wind. 

“She loved you.”

“I know.”

“Do you… forgive her?” Kogami struggled with the words, only wondering what Ginoza’s struggle felt like.

“I…” he shrugged, shaking Kogami’s hand off. He shook his head slowly. 

“She never regretted loving you. She might’ve been sorry for a lot of things, but she’d never regretted being in love with you. That much I know.” Kogami put his hands back in his pockets as it started to rain. It was cold and the raindrops stung as they fell. Ginoza was silent for a long time.

“The only time my Hue was ever powder blue was when I was born, and when she’d agreed to marry me.” He turned away, hesitating. “We had the same Hue type, you know. Sibyl guaranteed us to be a perfect match, lovers for life.” He scoffed harshly. “So much for that. The colour of regret… is pure.”

“Are you sure that her Hue wasn’t that clear because she was with you in her time of death?” Kogami challenged, knowing that he was fighting a losing battle. “Are you absolutely sure that she died in pain? Because I heard that she died smiling.”

“You want to know what I’m sure of, Kogami?” Ginoza looked up, his green eyes devoid of any emotion. “I’m sure that she’s gone, and that she’s never coming back.”

He walked away and Kogami made no move to follow, watching the flower petals wave in the wind, as if to reach out for him.

**Author's Note:**

> Elsewhere: https://goo.gl/DzBdPA


End file.
